Nightmare
by Agent Sandra Cartrip
Summary: Finn McMissile has a terrible nightmare and Holley Shiftwell comes to comfort him. This is NOT a Finn/Holley fic, even though it might read that way at times. One-shot.


_**Hello everyone! I hope you're all having a good night (or morning, depending on where you live). This is a one-shot I wrote awhile back after getting into a family fight. I was really angsty and upset, and I suddenly got this one idea and decided to write it down. I actually wrote it on plain paper while hiding under my bed covers one night, and the next day I typed it out. I was a little hesitant to post this, but now I have and I hope that you enjoy it.**_

 _ **Special thanks goes to my friend TRikiD for beta reading. Love you. 3**_

 _ **Disclaimer: As much as I wish I did, I don't own Cars, they belong to the amazing John Lasseter and the amazing people at Pixar. However, my friend BAVV and I are planning to write a letter to Pixar soon! But we can't ask for Cars XD**_

 _ **Oh and something I want to make clear: as stated above, this is NOT a Finn/Holley fic. I know it might read that way at times, but it's not. I would NEVER break up Mater and Holley, they're meant for each other! Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story!**_

Finn McMissile sat behind his desk, busily working on a report for C.H.R.O.M.E. It was due in a couple of days and, unfortunately, he was behind schedule. He was busily typing away on his laptop when a crisp male voice sounded over the loudspeaker.

" _Agent Finn McMissile, please report to the main lobby at once. Agent Finn McMissile, to the main lobby at once._ "

 _Huh_ , thought Finn, _I wonder what that could possibly be about._

He quickly rolled back from his desk and drove to the nearest lift. Several passing female cars winked and giggled as he drove by.

"Hello, Ladies," greeted Finn in his charming English accent.

Several male cars waved as they passed by as well.

"Good day to you, Gentlemen," greeted Finn as he drove into the lift. He rode down to the ground floor and drove out. Putting on his most confident smile, he drove down to the lobby, located in the middle of C.H.R.O.M.E.'s headquarters.

 _Perhaps Mason has something good to tell me,_ thought Finn. Mason, an old silver grey Aston Martin DB5, was the third and current director of C.H.R.O.M.E. The first director had long since passed on since C.H.R.O.M.E.'s founding in 1885, and the second director had been assassinated in office two decades ago. Like the others before him, Mason was a firm but kind old car, and he often gave promotions to the most hard-working agents. Whenever Finn was just outside his door, he could feel an aura of excitement coming from within. But as Finn neared the door, he realised something was wrong.

Very wrong.

He could hear scornful words in hushed tones being spoken from within. And he thought he heard his name.

Finn knocked loudly on the door.

"Come in!" came a sharp voice.

Finn cautiously opened the door and drove inside.

In the middle of the room stood the director, surrounded by several other agents, all of whom were older and more experienced than Finn. Mason's blue-green-grey eyes were steely and narrowed. The other agents were glaring.

"Come here, McMissile," the director said in a dangerously quiet voice.

Finn's smile faltered as he approached Mason.

Mason shoved a piece of paper at Finn's tyres. "Is this true?"

Confused, Finn read the paper. "What is this?" he asked, "I don't understand!"

Mason glared at him. "You understand plenty!"

"What?" asked Finn, puzzled.

"Don't lie to me!" snapped the director. "You know the truth!"

Finn reversed slightly. "Sir, I-!"

"MCMISSILE!" shouted Mason, slamming his tyre on the ground, causing the agent to jump. "Did you or did you not allow for Agent Porter Phillips to be brutally cut-down and murdered by those Russian spies during your last mission uncovering nuclear weapons in the Soviet Union?"

Finn's aquamarine eyes went wide. "I-I never meant for Phillips to be killed! Neither of us knew that the Russian spies were advancing on us! We were stuck in the village with no choice than to climb over the wall using our grappling hooks. I tried to help Phillips as best as I could, but the poor chap was brutally gunned down right before my very eyes! I even tried putting myself between him and the bullets, but they got him anyway!"

"And it's all _your_ fault!" screamed Mason.

Finn tensed in disbelief. "My fault?"

"Yes, your fault!" the irate director yelled. "If you hadn't bungled that damn plan I had specifically laid out for you, Phillips wouldn't have been slaughtered off so violently like common cattle! Why couldn't you follow the bloody plan the way I told you? _Why_?"

Finn struggled to remain calm. "Sir, we followed everything you had told us to do. We did not realise that the Russian agents were holding the high cards. We had no choice but to abort the mission. It was simply too dangerous to carry on, with the Russians advancing on us like bloodhounds! We tried to escape, but they cornered us by the time we reached the wall. They blasted Phillips' engine, right through the radiator!" Finn cringed at the memory of his friend's radiator bursting, the scalding water spraying relentlessly into his eyes. "I tried to save Phillips. I really did, but they shot him so mercilessly I couldn't save him! It happened so fast!" Finn's stomach twisted as the mental image of Phillips' lifeless body covered with bloody bullet holes came rushing back to him.

"Don't lie to me, McMissile!" shouted Mason angrily, grabbing Finn by the wing. "You are a bloody murderer! Phillips got massacred by those damn Russian agents, and it's all because of _you_ , you pathetic damned piece of scrap metal! You and your own bloody carelessness!"

He shoved Finn back, causing him to crash sideways into the wall.

"And to think I hired a murderer in my agency!" Mason roared at him.

Finn shakily rose to his tyres, his entire side dented inward, oily blood oozing from the right side of his mouth. "I-I'm sorry, Mason. Really, I never meant for a beloved colleague to die so horribly!"

"Well, it's too late for an apology!" shouted Mason. He drove closer to Finn. "You are a rotten murderer, McMissile," he whispered. "You tried to lie your way out of this. But it never works, you see. You still got busted. For this you are going to pay..." his eyes narrowed dangerously.

Finn's eyes widened as he reversed slightly.

"...very dearly," Mason finished.

Finn stood frozen in fear.

The director glared at Finn hard, as if trying to see straight through the Faultless GT's soul. "You're fired, Finn McMissile," he hissed. "Fired."

Finn winced in shock. "B-But Sir, I-!"

"Shut up!" shouted the grey Aston Martin DB4. "You are not worthy of being a spy! And I will never hire the likes of psychopathic, murderous scum like you! Leave now, and never return!"

Overcome with shock, Finn turned and drove out of the lobby, his brakes screeching loudly. _This can not be happening!_ he thought, _this can not be happening..._

Finn turned a sharp corner. Several bobbies suddenly appeared at the entrance to the lift.

"Arrest him!" one of them shouted as they charged forward.

Finn spun around and drove as fast as he could. Suddenly a bullet shot past him, nicking his side and spilling some blood.

 _They're shooting at me!_ he realised.

Suddenly Finn found himself headed straight for a wall. He made a sharp turn to the left. Just then a bullet shot through his door. Finn screamed in pain as he went down. The bobbies drove up to him and grabbed him, forcefully pulling him onto his tyres and dragging him through the hall.

"Let me go!" Finn shouted, the pain in his door burning like crazy, blood spurting from the wound and trailing on the tiled floor. "Let me go!"

….

"Finn? Finn!"

Finn's eyes snapped open. He glanced around frantically, expecting to see the bobbies all towering him. But all he saw was the silver wallpaper made slightly visible by the moonlight. He relaxed a bit when he realised where he was; safe and sound in his own room at C.H.R.O.M.E..

"Finn?"

Finn turned to face the owner of the soft female voice. "Holley?" he whispered softly.

Holley's jade green eyes stared into Finn's aquamarine. "I heard you screaming in your sleep," the purple Jaguar said softly, "I was worried you had hurt yourself. It seems you were having a nightmare. Are you all right?"

Finn nodded slowly. "Yes," he said quietly. "Yes, I'm all right."

Holley looked worried. "You don't look fine, Finn," she said. "What's wrong?"

Finn sighed, looking down at the bed sheets. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

"It is something," said Holley, "I can tell by the tone in your voice. Please tell me, Finn."

Finn sighed. "All right," he said, "I dreamt that the director, Mason, was blaming me for Phillips' death. Remember that mission in Russia I told you about?"

The purple Jaguar nodded.

The powder blue Faultless GT sucked in his breath. "He got shot up very badly," Finn continued, "but he survived and we managed to get him back. We thought he was going to die. I thought they had killed him...and that it was all my fault. I am just glad I managed to get his unconscious self over the wall."

Holley smiled gently. "Poor chap," she said softly, "I'm glad he's all right now."

"Me too," said Finn, sighing, "I should have realised it was only a dream. Mason would never treat anyone that way. And besides, Phillips did survive, even though we came very close to loosing him. He spent several months in the hospital and was out of action for over a year for rehabilitation, but he pulled through. I don't know why I dreamt he died...but that dream just seemed so...so real."

"Dreams can be very powerful," said Holley. "Just be glad that's all it was."

Finn nodded and yawned. "Oh, my. I didn't know I was so exhausted. I think I'll go back to sleep now, if you don't mind."

Holley smiled. "Dream a good dream this time. I'm sure you will."

Finn snuggled back into his bed and closed his eyes. "Thanks for checking on me, Holley," he said sleepily as he began to drift off. "I appreciate it. I..." his sentence drifted off as he began to snore softly.

Holley tucked the blanket around him. Finn let out a couple of muffled snorts.

Holley smiled at his sleeping form. "Goodnight, Finn," she whispered softly. "Sweet dreams."

She slowly reversed out of the room and drove back to hers.

Finn smiled in his sleep, happy to know Holley was looking out for him the way he looked out for her.

 _You're a good friend, Holley,_ he thought as he drifted off, _and you always will be._

 _ **Finn**_

 _ **Ha ha, did you get my little joke at the end? Finn, as in fin? The end? Even if you didn't, that's perfectly all right. I still hope that you enjoyed the story and I hope that you are looking forward to more coming from me soon.**_

 _ **~Sandra**_


End file.
